


True Pretences

by meaninglessblah



Series: Prompts & Fills [7]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27238060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meaninglessblah/pseuds/meaninglessblah
Summary: Dick casts his gaze around the room, blinking owlishly at the sparse furniture. He’d dragged the only chair in the room up to Jason’s bedside, and the plastic vinyl has to be the most uncomfortable thing he’s had the displeasure of sitting on in his entire life.He’s eyeing a patch of bare tile beneath the windows when Tim huffs and glares."Quit with the pretences and climb in the damn bed with him already,” he snaps, exasperated around a wry smile. “You do it enough back home in Bludhaven anyway."
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Series: Prompts & Fills [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1987264
Comments: 2
Kudos: 73





	True Pretences

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Frantic_Vampire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frantic_Vampire/gifts).



> An old prompt, moved over from Tumblr. The prompt was "I can’t feel my fingers anymore", asked by the lovely franticvampirereads <3

“You bring this on yourself, you know,” Tim says where he’s leaned against the window sill he’s just finished slipping through, arms crossed casually over the Red Robin insignia. 

Dick scrubs a palm unevenly down his face, pulling on the thick bags beneath his eyes. “Hand me that bottle of water, please." 

Tim smiles, but unfolds to cross the tiled room, snagging the plastic bottle from the opposite nightstand and passing it over Jason’s dozing form. 

"How’s the hand?” he asks with a nod at Dick’s occupied limb, as he uncaps the bottle with his teeth and takes a long sip. 

“I can’t feel my fingers anymore,” Dick returns in a grumble, and downs more water. He never thought he’d be so appreciative of water, but hours hovering by a hospital bed rearranges one’s priorities. 

Tim’s gaze slips down to where Jason’s fingers are wrapped tight around Dick’s on the blue sheets, squeezing hard even in unconsciousness. Doesn’t comment on the fact that Dick hasn’t made a move to extract them, and probably won’t. 

He watches Tim’s gaze slide over the array of monitors, categorising numbers in the reflective glare of his lenses. Dick follows his line of sight, but the blurred digits don’t rearrange themselves into anything more discernible than they have every other time he’s looked. 

Apparently unsatisfied with the data, Tim turns to slip the clipboard of notes from the end of Jason’s bed, leafing through the charts as he hums. 

Dick watches him with bone-deep tiredness. “You seem to be taking this rather calmly." 

"I’ve seen worse,” Tim murmurs without looking up. 

Dick frowns. “That’s not comforting." 

"Occupational hazard,” Tim returns, and flicks to another page. “He’ll live. He’s not critical anymore. Can’t ask for much more than that." 

"He lost a lot of blood, Tim,” Dick says, unable to school the irritation from his tone. 

Tim lowers the clipboard an inch to fix Dick with what would be a scathing expression if his eyebrows were visible. As it is, he looks like an aggressively judgemental bird. 

Dick gets the message anyway, because body language has unfortunately been his long-standing strong suit. 

Tim’s head falls back to scanning the nurse’s notes. “Forgive me for not being his biggest supporter." 

Dick sighs and props his elbow on the sheets beside Jason’s ribs, smothering the drooping corners of his mouth with his palm. "He apologised, remember?" 

"I do remember,” Tim confirms, low and airy. Dick hears the scrape of a turning page like nails on the inside of his skull, and lets his eyes flicker closed. “I also remember there being a four inch scar in my trachea." 

It’s said so lightly, dangled on a string above where scrutiny can reach. Dick winces. 

"But he did apologise." 

"He did,” Tim concedes easily. “And I forgave him. Still not his biggest fan." 

It rubs uncomfortably against Dick’s morals, but he keeps his peace until Tim sighs into the silence. 

"We don’t all play hard and fast with love like you, Dick. Or with trauma. Some of us compartmentalize." 

”’S'not healthy,“ Dick mumbles into his palm. 

"Yeah, and running around in gaudy fursonas is?" 

Dick snorts, muffling his snickers even as Tim cracks a smile. 

"I have a point." 

"You usually do,” Dick admits, and peels open his eyelids to survey Jason’s prone form again. The silence weighs heavy on his tongue before he says, “Bruce got home okay?" 

Tim gives him a sliding mid-tone not unlike a bird’s call, and Dick hums his agreement. 

"He’ll be fine,” Dick murmurs. 

“He will be once they discharge him,” Tim agrees loftily, and returns the clipboard to its holder at Jason’s blanketed feet. He swamps the bed with his massive frame, heels nearly brushing the endboard. “And until then, he can wait his damn turn." 

Dick warms at the protectiveness in that tone. Doesn’t need to ask what divisive countermeasures Tim has employed to give them their space. His gratitude is palpable anyway. 

"You need to sleep,” Tim observes, and shifts back to the window. “Proper sleep,” he adds preemptively, when Dick opens his mouth. “Not this half and half stuff. Take it from a professional sleep-avoider." 

He can’t deny how appealing that sounds, when his eyelids feel like lead weights and his leg is going numb again. 

Dick casts his gaze around the room, blinking owlishly at the sparse furniture. He’d dragged the only chair in the room up to Jason’s bedside, and the plastic vinyl has to be the most uncomfortable thing he’s had the displeasure of sitting on in his entire life. 

He’s eyeing a patch of bare tile beneath the windows when Tim huffs and glares. 

"Quit with the pretences and climb in the damn bed with him already,” he snaps, exasperated around a wry smile. “You do it enough back home in Bludhaven anyway." 

Dick doesn’t blush. That would imply guilt, and Dick doesn’t feel guilty about sneaking Jason into his safehouse a whole city over to avoid Bruce’s all-seeing eye. 

"Indulging your voyeurism again, are you?” he says instead, and Tim barks a sharp laugh. 

“If only I had the time. You two aren’t as subtle as you think you are,” he warns, and then smirks to himself. “Luckily for you, the Wayne gene seems to take the whole ‘blind as a bat’ thing a step too far." 

Dick exhales, relief dragging his shoulders from their terse hunch. Bruce’s meddling was one thing that Dick was begrudgingly coming to terms with. He’s glad to hear he’s bought some time before he has to handle Damian’s intervening. 

"Steph is already picking out a bridesmaid’s dress, just so you know,” Tim informs him sweetly, and Dick laughs. The younger man’s expression softens at the sound. “Get some sleep. Enjoy each other’s company for a while. We’ll watch the city for you til you’re ready." 

"Thanks, Tim." 

"Don’t mention it.” And then, pausing with one calf hooked over the sill, as if the thought has just occurred to him. “No, really, don’t mention it. I don’t want to deal with Bruce’s fallout." 

"Your secret’s safe with me,” Dick replies with a wry smile, rising to stretch out his limbs. 

“Ditto,” comes the wind-snatched reply, as the vigilante swings away. 

Dick shakes his head and extracts his fingers to cross the room, sliding the window closed and latching it before he draws the curtains. Jason’s expression is still peaceful when he turns back to the bed, and those sheets look inviting, so Dick climbs onto the mattress beside him. 

Singing the praises of his bygone acrobatic years as he contorts himself into the curve of Jason’s side, Dick lays his head across Jason’s collarbones and lets the slow thrum of his heart lull him. Barely summons the resolve to reach out and flick the bedside lamp off before he curls into his lover’s side and lets exhaustion claim him. 

**Author's Note:**

> [ ](https://linktr.ee/meaninglessblah)


End file.
